


Roo

by NeopetsKid



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Homophobic Language, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, Kidnapping Situation, M/M, Multi, Nonbinary Character, Swearing, abandoned, birds appear, dad!spy, demo is friend-shaped, i hope I get the character’s right, its going to be a bumpy ride, mostly based on comics, nonbinary Pyro, strap in kiddos, uhhhhhhh this is bad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-03-07 03:05:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13425423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeopetsKid/pseuds/NeopetsKid
Summary: After finally killing Helen (the Administrator) the team gets stuck in Coldfront while trying to have a vacation at Heavy’s place. However, amidst the blossoming romance there will always be another villain...





	1. The Mornin’ After

Sniper’s arm was asleep.

Normally, Mundy woke up early, usually greeted by a large (and fairly obnoxious) owl. But the sun beams in his van suggested he had slept in. And he was warm. And his arm was asleep. Oh no.

Sniper’s eyes flew open to confirm his theory. Sure enough, Scout was entangled in his bedsheets with both arms clinging to Sniper like a lifeline. Sniper’s arm was uncomfortably wedged underneath Scout’s lithe figure, and soft snores were muffled into Sniper’s chest.

Well this was certainly a development.

Sniper remained utterly stiff, trying desperately to remain calm. He quickly reviewed the previous night’s events. The team arriving in Coldfront on their way to Heavy’s house, the blizzard that struck, the oh-so-convenient stash of beer Demo just happened to find. Nervous laughs trying to break the ice, bad jokes, a long, friendship-ruining game of Monopoly. And then the fuzzy aftermath, Sniper being half-carried by Scout to his van, sleepy laughs, and then-

Oh. Oh piss. 

Sniper exhaled loudly through his nose. Great. He had sex with a team member. The one taboo he had.  
Sniper screwed his eyes shut as if trying to ignore the man who was lying on top of him. He could feel tension building in his chest, threatening to burst through the hastily sewn stitches that marred him. A lump formed in his throat as he struggled to keep his breathing natural for the man using him as a pillow.

It wasn’t so much the teams reaction that he feared at this point. Everyone knew Heavy and Medic were an item, and besides the rare, snarky remarks from Scout, no one questioned it. Soldier even applauded them, stating that “A true American should have the right to love! Good on you, fellow patriots!”. Heavy and Medic didn’t bother correcting him on the nationality aspect, although it was clear to everyone else on the base that they were greatly amused by the outburst. No, Sniper trusted the team. Or at least most of it.

How was Spy going to react? It was no secret to the team that he was Scout’s father. Scout had no idea, but that was an issue that Sniper didn’t want to get involved in. It wasn’t his place. The man might be a back-stabbing bastard, but Sniper had no business telling him how to treat his son. It wasn’t like Sniper was any better of a person. However, Spy’s act of not caring was just that: an act. It was just another mask he wore, and Sniper wasn’t fooled. Mundy was sure that Spy wouldn’t hesitate to stab him in the throat if that’s what he thought was best for Scout. So what should he do?

Scout shifted in his sleep, smacking Sniper in the face. Right. Well, he had to get up at some point no matter what, and the later he stayed in bed, the more angry Hoots would get. Sniper sat up gently, shaking Scout’s shoulder.

“Whuduhfuckyoudoinnnnng…” Scout mumbled, bringing his hands to his face to rub his eyes. Blearily, he blinked the sleep out and stared up at Sniper with hazy eyes. 

“Oh,” he said, color rushing to his face. “Mornin’. Fancy meetin’ you here.”

Sniper snorted, desperately attempting to focus on something other than the heat he felt in his face. “Yeah, mornin’ to you too, ‘roo.”

Scout sat up, using Sniper as a springboard. Sniper’s chest tightened even further as he looked at Scout. God, he looked bloody gorgeous. The pale morning light illuminated his figure, soft shadows accenting his toned body. His hair was strewn about and looked as if he had just lifted a mountain during a hurricane. His eyes were a perfect pastel blue shining like a spring breeze. Sniper felt gayer than he had in his entire life, and that was saying something.

“So I, um,” Scout began, fidgeting under what was probably too intense of a look that a Sniper was giving him. “I think I’ll, just… y’know, um…”

Sniper opened his mouth, but was saved from whatever horrid thing he was going to say by a knock on the door.

“Hey, Sniper, breakfast is ready! Ah know you don’t like eatin’ with us, but ya gotta do it this time! Ah made my special eggs!”

Scout froze at Engie’s voice, his face paling almost comically rapidly. Sniper struggled to speak for a few seconds before letting out a strangled “A-ah yeah, I’ll be roight there!”

“Don’t keep me waitin’, ya hear?” Sniper relaxed as Engie gave an affable and very southern goodbye. “Oh, and have ya seen Scout? I ain’t seen him in the base today.”

Sniper immediately stiffened again, mouth opening and closing like a stupid, mortified fish. Luckily, Scout came to the rescue.

“Yeah, I’m in here, hardhat! Sniper told me he ain’t never read Marvel comics, so I decided to teach him a thing or two before breakfast!”

Sniper marveled at Scout’s quick thinking as Engie replied, “Well alrighty then, but y’all better come in before your eggs get cold!”

“Yeah, yeah, will do, ma!” Scout called back sarcastically. Sniper heard Engie chuckle amiably before the tell-tale sound of crunching snow signaled his exit.

It was going to be a rough day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments, kudos, and constrictive criticism is always appreciated!


	2. Eggs, Fire, and Threats

Sniper entered the base in a gust of freezing air, quickly shutting the door behind him. The warmth of the interior and the scent of eggs washed over him in a comforting blanket. Scout, in typical Scout fashion, had rushed ahead of Sniper and was already digging into a plate that was way too full. Behind him, hell ensued.

It appeared someone had given Pyro the toaster, and the masked firework had taken it upon themself to make a heaping pile of burnt toast. Next to them, Soldier cheered them on, completely nude. Zhanna was also nude, and was currently rummaging through the pantry no doubt in attempt to find various condiments to rub on herself and her fiancé. Heavy and Medic sat in a small, circular table near a window, talking quietly to each other. Demo and Engie were manning the eggs, Demo often sneaking in assorted spices into the mix when Engie turned his back to frantically mother the team. Spy, in typical Spy fashion, was nowhere to be found.

Demo noticed Sniper first. “Get yer eggs, Kiwi, Pyro can only burn so much toast. Get it before they do.”

Sniper passed by the chaos and gratefully accepted a plate. Next to him, Scout somehow began eating faster.

“So!” Demo slapped his hands on the island where Sniper and Scout were sitting. “Hardhat here tells me Scout has been learnin’ ye about comics!”

Sniper choked on his eggs, and next to him, Scout stopped eating.

Mundy scrambled for words, but Scout intervened once again. “Yeah, this moron didn’t even know who Captain America was! Dat’s just sad, and I ain’t letting no one stay ignorant about it.”

“How kind of ye, Scout!” Demo teased. Scout accepted it at face value and swelled with pride, opening his mouth to speak again, but Demo got to it first. “So what d’ye think of Captain America then?”

Oh. Small talk. Sniper grasped for a simple answer. What would Scout say?

“He’s, uh. He’s pretty badass.” Sniper said. Was that good? Was that right?

He didn’t get an answer as a small fire swelled to the right. Demo yelled, abandoning the eggs, and joining Engie in his attempt to calm down Pyro, who had brought out their flamethrower. Behind the lot, Soldier and Zhanna were passionately making love, spreading butter everywhere.

Sniper looked to his left, but Scout had gone. He looked down at his eggs, contemplating the dull yellow mass. He had lost his appetite.

Cleaning up his plate quickly, Sniper managed to avoid the catastrophe to the right, and exited the kitchen. His steps echoed on the cold, grey surface of the hallway, far too loud then it had the right to be. Behind him he could hear the situation he had avoided and… something else.

Sniper stopped, ears focusing on the noises near him, drowning out the excess sounds. Something was close to him, skirting around his peripheral senses. Mundy turned back around to face the kitchen, and felt the cold, solid shape of a knife press against his throat.

He froze in place, not daring to turn his head or make any sudden movements. Was it their Spy, or someone else?

“Dear bushman, we have to stop meeting like this.”

Sniper wasn’t sure whether to be annoyed or relieved when he recognized the voice, but he relaxed slightly.

“That would be easier if you could stop jumping me.” Sniper retorted, holding perfectly still.

Silence. The cold hall’s demeanor was still, and Sniper wished he could hear his unreasonably loud footsteps again. The knife on his neck remained in position, the silence stiffened, and Spy’s presence became increasingly hounding.

“What do you want, Spook?” Sniper asked after several seconds of overbearing quiet.

“Do you plan on making a habit of defiling my son?” Spy said, his voice far too calm.

Sniper played dumb. “You’re going to have to be a little clearer, there. I don’t recall doing anything.”

“Oh please, he’s /limping/.” Spy snarled, pressing the knife a little harder on Sniper’s throat.

Sniper ignored that comment and his flushing face, and retorted, “Scout is a grown man. It’s a little too late to pretend to be a concerned father figure.”

“I don’t need to pretend /anything/,” Spy hissed. “I just want you to know that I’m still here, and as long as I am, I’m watching. He will /not/ be with someone like you, and I will make sure of it.”

The weight of the knife disappeared, and Sniper felt Spy’s presence vanish as well. Mundy glanced over his shoulder anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments, kudos, and constructive criticism are always welcome!


	3. Family Dinner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeet!!! I love Demo!!! What a lad, 11/10! Also I don’t know how pacing works lol

The hefty weight of the scent of stew spread over the lounge in a warm blanket. Sniper perked up slightly from his reclined position on the windowsill at the smell and looked eagerly over at the kitchen. The toaster was still ruined, but Engie appeared to have scoured the area for some pots and pans, several of which were currently in use. Heavy was helping him cook, the two mothering the team from a distance as Medic sulked from losing what he called “zhe only intellectual among you”.

“Alright, y’all, food is ready!” Engie called over his shoulder. Pyro whizzed to the large and (unfortunately) wooden table, placing themself down at the head of the table, bouncing excitedly. Soldier and Zhanna practically launched themselves down, and the rest filled in with far less vigor.

Scout, who had somehow avoided Sniper all day in a small, snowed-in base, was sitting next to Pyro, the two mumbling through food and masks excitedly. Sniper moved to sit next to him, but Spy sat down directly on Scout’s right side.

Mundy awkwardly shambled to the next seat, on Spy’s right and Heavy’s left. Heavy was currently distracted by his antsy lover, who was speaking very quickly in a strange medley of German, Russian and English. Sniper sat down, feeling very much stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Sniper’s inner turmoil was loudly interrupted by Demo across the table. “Ach, why couldn’t we ‘ave brought some more booze?”

“Vell, ve vould have had enough if zhis znowstorn hadn’t have happened.” Medic grumbled into his soup.

“There are children here, Demo, we can’t have alcohol around such young individuals.”

Scout whipped his head around at Spy’s snide remark. “Hey, I ain’t a kid, im twenty-freaking-eight, gimme a break.”

“Scout, I have no idea why in the world you would think I was talking about you!” Spy exclaimed, sarcasm dripping from every word.

“Oh c’mon, you’re always giving me shit for bein’ the youngest, at least I ain’t an old fart like you!” 

“Eat your vegetables, Scout.” Spy remarked dryly.

Scout scoffed, and stuck his nose back in his soup. “Go eat a car tire.”

Sniper choked on his stew. Spy rolled his eyes. Across the table, Demo’s face lit up.

“I’ve done that once!” He proclaimed with a concerning amount of pride in his voice.

“You WHAT?!” Engie’s mother hen persona reared its maternal head as he glared in shock at the child in question. Sniper was now muffling giggles into his spoon as he watched the scene unfold.

“Well, I mean it wasn’t a WHOLE tire…” Demo sunk into himself, looking rather ashamed. “College was strange for me, ya know, I was in a frat house…”

The whole table sat and looked at him for a beat of loud, judgmental, and worried silence. Then Soldier put his hand gently on Demo’s shoulder and looked him in the eye with a soft, but stern gaze.

“Private, what the fuck.”

The table exploded into laughter. Heavy slapped the table hard in his mirth, the consequential tremble flinging silverware all over. Spy was laugh-snorting loudly, driving the laughter further as the team began to laugh at his benefit as well. Soldier and Zhanna were the only ones not laughing, serious expressions of concerns practically melded to their faces.

The rest of the meal was significantly more relaxed than the first few moments for Sniper. The night delved on, more snow obscuring the windows completely, an adventing obsidian closing the warmth in. Demo told various alarming stories, Soldier and Zhanna loudly fornicated in a corner, and Scout lost several games of chess in a row. The night soon became too dark and cold for the group, and the team reluctantly tucked in. Sniper found that the snow had shut the doors completely, and couldn’t make it to his comforting van. He found himself in a small but comfortable room with a desk covered in bird droppings and a lumpy bed in the corner. Flopping ungracefully onto the warmth, he fell asleep quickly, surrounded by friends, something more, and encroaching snow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HooOoOOOO I need sleep. Thx for reading this hot mess. Next chapter shit gets real. Comments, kudos, and constructive criticism are always welcome!


	4. Floating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, sorry for the delay! Explanation at end notes.   
> WARNING: This chapter contains lightly described death, including images of blood, decay, and corpses. If this isn’t okay with you, DON’T READ IT. Your mental health is more important than this fic.

Sniper was floating again.

It wasn’t an unusual thing to happen to him, rather, he had experienced it multiple times throughout his life. The first time he could remember it was when he fell out of a tree. He had been very young at the time, and landed flat on his back, forcing out all the air in his lungs. His head whipped back and cracked against the dirt, and he started floating. He lay there, suspended, on the ground until his wits came back to him as cold air re-filled his lungs.

Later, when he was about nineteen, Sniper hovered over the body of a dead man, blood quickly draining from the corpse, flesh a grey and muted color. His first kill. He stayed there for a moment until he re-entered his body, falling to his knees as he did.

Not too long ago, both his parents had died. Not his birth parents, whom Sniper had no real connection to other than disappointment and regret, but his real parents. They had died in their sleep peacefully, and Mundy remained floating for almost a whole week. 

Two months ago, he had seen them again. This time he actually was afloat, above his body, crumpled and bloody in Demo’s arms, transported roughly to a cold table, and taken apart and redone by the last person he would want doing his surgery. The visit to his parents was short, and Sniper almost missed the weightlessness of the world.

Almost.

Later that day, the sun had gone down. Dusk settled, dust settled, and the team was back together. Pyro had mysteriously found a spare pair of pants that Sniper gratefully accepted. Scout was able to walk soundly again. Medic and Heavy were reunited, and were sharing soft words. The stars littered the sky and the new moon left no other light.

All was well.

The clip-clopping of heels informed the team of an old newcomer. Helen walked into the scene with no hesitation. Her dress and hair were immaculate, her stance sharp and disapproving. Her face was devoid of wrinkles, skin smooth and clean, and eyes a burning yellow. 

No one moved.

“Helen,” Spy said cautiously.

“Hello, old friend.” Helen snapped in a tone far too sharp to be pleasant. She looked the rag-tag team up and down disdainfully. 

She let out a huff, clearly not satisfied with what she saw. Heavy and Medic stood stone-faced, and even Soldier had the sense to be silent, although he and Zhanna were visibly fuming.

“It’s been so long since you’ve all seen the man behind the curtain.” She said simply. 

“Helen, wha-“ Miss Pauling attempted to say, but Spy cut her off.

“What do you want? It’s over.”

Helen smiled. “You’re right. I’ve gotten everything I want. And so, it seems, have you. Isn’t it nice how these things work out?”

The team stayed silent. Spy pulled out his revolver.

“Don’t make me wait, old friend.”

The trigger was pulled, and Sniper floated away. Helen’s body hit the dirt, skin curling and aging grotesquely with her final breath. Her skin sagged, covering the bloody bullet hole in her skull, her hair disintegrated into the desert dust, and Sniper almost couldn’t hear the muted shriek Miss Pauling let out. He almost couldn’t see her spring forward, clutching the skeletal figure in a vice like grip. Almost couldn’t see Spy lowering his pistol hand slowly, looking on with pity. Almost couldn’t smell the rot and decay already pungent in the air.

Almost.

And so he floated, away from the desert, away from the corpse, and away from his sleeping figure. In his dreams he remained afloat, weightless and weighted in his mind.

Until a soft knock at the door woke him up.

Sniper blearily blinked open his eyes, now fully tethered. The intruder in question hadn’t waited for an answer, and was now currently closing the door.

“Wh-“

Scout half-jogged over to Sniper’s bed and practically launched himself next to the half-asleep man. Sniper recoiled, the almost-collision waking him fully.

“What the bloody-“

“Omigod Snipes, Soldier has the WORST fucking snores I’ve ever heard in my life,” Scout chattered, quickly stealing the blankets in Sniper’s confusion, and snuggling up next to him. “Medic said we had to share a room because there’s only seven and I can’t stand it! I mean, my brothers snores room but it ain’t nothing compared to him! The man sounds like a fuckin’ bulldozer!”

“Oh,” Sniper said intelligently, surprised by the sudden warmth sharing his bed. Scout paid no mind, and continued blabbering.

“I can’t stay with Demo because he’s smashed, Engie is a gross old man, Heavy and Medic are probably banging, and who knows what kinda freaky shit Pyro or Spy is doing. Zhanna was also in Soldier’s room, ya know, sharpening various weapons and making unbreaking eye contact with me, so I figured I’d leave them to their business.”

“Sounds rough, ‘roo.” Sniper offered in what he hoped was a good tone that didn’t sound like he had just been woken from a dissociative dream.

“Yeah, an’- what?”

Scout twisted his head to look at Sniper, confusion evident on his face.

“What?” Sniper repeated.

“What’s ‘roo? Sounds like a disease. Like a weird, gross, skin disease.”

Sniper snorted loudly. “Nah, like a kangaroo. It’d be weirder to call ya kanga.”

“Oh,” Scout mumbled, pressing his face back down to Sniper’s side. “Why d’ya think of kangaroos with me, then?”

“I’unno, they’re cute?”

Scout’s usually incessant twitching stopped, as did Sniper’s heart. Shit shit shit, that wasn’t right, people don’t say that, why’d ya have to say it like it was a question-

Scout buried his face into Sniper’s chest, groaning loudly. “Dammit Snipes, why’dja have to do that? I thought I was gonna be the smooth one here, you didn’t have to one-up me!”

Oh. Sniper’s heart kicked back into motion. He chuckled nervously. “So you came down here to spend the night, then?”

“How’dja tell, was it the fact that I’m literally snuggling you?” Scout rebutted sleepily, nestling in further. 

Sniper didn’t respond to that, choosing to hold him tighter instead. Tether found, he had a dreamless night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, I’ve been getting a lot of D lately! (The D stands for Depression) Anyway, I’m back and I hope you all enjoy!   
> ANOTHER WARNING: From here on out this fic deals with heavy stuff, including rape, kidnapping, and violence. If this isn’t good for you, STOP READING. Your mental health is more important than this fic.  
> Comments, constructive criticism, and kudos are always welcome!


	5. Wind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Homophobic language including “fag” and “queer”. Please don’t read if this is hurtful, your mental health is more important than this fic.

The door burst open unceremoniously. Scout shot straight up and Sniper reached for where he usually kept his knife. Finding the area empty he turned to glare at the intruder.

The intruder in question was a completely stone-faced Frenchman who was dressed in some ridiculously fancy bathrobe. Where the hell had he even-

Sniper interrupted his own thoughts as he spoke, rather angrily. “Whot the bloody hell do you want?”

“Breakfast is ready,” Spy responded coolly, not moving an inch. “I suggest you two get cleaned up and join us.”

He turned sharply and slammed the door. Mundy put his head in his hands and let out a frustrated growl. His face was no doubt flushed red as he looked over at Scout, who, by comparison, was deathly pale. He looked straight forward at the door, not moving.

“...’Roo?” Sniper asked gently.

Scout’s eyes snapped towards him, and, without saying a word, launched himself from the bed and walked out the door briskly, leaving Sniper sitting alone in a bed that was now achingly cold.

Mundy let a long colorful string of words leave his mouth as he sluggishly moved out of bed and got dressed. Was Scout mad? Was he mad at Sniper? Why was Scout mad? Why didn’t he say anything? Mundy pondered these thoughts as a steady stream of “fuckin’ shitty ass... fuckin’...” escaped his lips. 

Bumbling towards the kitchen, Sniper was once again greeted with the smell of burnt food. Spy was sitting at the island bar, behind which Soldier and Zhanna critiqued Pyro’s cooking. The combination of fiery yelling and mumbling drowned out Engie’s soft complaints as he furiously rubbed at his baggy eyes. Demo was also sitting at the bar, but was completely asleep, snoring louder than the argument in front of him.

Medic and Heavy sat at the round table in the corner they seemed to claim as soon as they had arrived in the snowy base. Scout also sat with them, taking up the third and final chair available there.

Mundy shambled over to the only chair left, at the island between Demo and Spy. He tried to catch Scout’s eye as he walked over, but Scout purposely avoided his gaze. As Sniper sat down, he couldn’t help but notice a suspiciously knife shaped indent in Spy’s suit.

Right. Best behavior. Sniper cleared his throat, alerting Engie of his presence.

Alerted, Engie quickly provided a plate of (mostly) unburnt quiche. “Nice of ya to join us at breakfast again, pardner.” Engie smiled cheerfully.

“Yeah,” Sniper mumbled through a too hasty bite. As he tried to conceal the fact that he had basically just set his mouth on fire, Spy interjected.

“Yes, ‘ow lovely.”

Ignoring the icy remark, Engie strived on. “What’cha been up to lately, then, Slim?”

“Yes, what ‘AVE you been up too?” Spy remarked coldly, cutting his quiche with a knife that clearly wasn’t made for cutlery purposes.

‘Fuck this,’ Sniper thought suddenly, anger quickly overriding his common sense. ‘He can’t act all high and mighty like he isn’t cutting a quiche. Who the fuck cuts a quiche? That stuck up fuck. He can’t talk to me like that. I haven’t even had my coffee yet.’

He turned himself sharply to look Spy dead in the eye. “Oh, you know,” he spat, “sharpening knives, polishing guns, sticking my rounds in barrels, the usual.”

The surrounding vicinity dropped by at least 10 degrees. Engie laughed nervously, probably highly uncomfortable. Sniper couldn’t care less. The prude could go shove his nose in someone else’s business.

Spy set his knife down. “I think,” he started frigidly, “Someone ought to replace the firewood. Per’aps you could assist with this, bushman.”

Engineer chuckled something about having enough firewood already, but his voice was drowned by a sudden, booming voice.

“Is good idea. Scout, you should go with.”

The trio turned towards Medic and Heavy’s table. Scout sat frozen, mid-bite and Heavy sat cross-armed, staring at Spy. Spy glared daggers at him.

“I do not think-”

“Ja! What an excellent idea, mein Schatz.” Medic interrupted Spy, nudging Scout with his elbow. 

Spy fell silent, though still seething, he wasn’t fool enough to argue with not only Heavy, but Medic as well. 

“Yeah, sure.” Scout said, standing abruptly. “Let’s go, Sniper.”

Mundy stood as well, eager to escape Spy’s wrath, although he was equally afraid of Scout’s. The pair walked through the doors silently, leaving behind the cold of the kitchen and proceeding into the chill of the outdoors.

Scout grabbed an axe as he walked, never breaking pace. Sniper struggled to keep up with his brisk pace without breaking into a jog. The two climbed to the top of the enormous driveway in silence.

Once at the top, Scout threw the axe to the side, breathing heavily. 

“Roo-”

“Don’t call me that!” Scout snapped, turning to face Sniper.

“Scout,” Sniper amended. “Whot’s going on?”

“What the fuck do you think?!” Scout practically yelled, tearing at his hair with his ungloved hands. “The whole team is gonna know I’m a fucking queer-”

“Hey-” Sniper attempted to interject.

“And then my ma is gonna know, and my brothers, and Miss Pauling too-“

“Roo-”

“I SAID DON’T FUCKING CALL ME THAT!”

Scout whipped towards Sniper, shaking from the cold, eyes full of an furious fire and unshed tears. Sniper took a step back, holding his hands up defensively, mouth uselessly gaping for the right words.

“Maybe just ‘cause you’re okay with bein’ a fag doesn’t mean I am, okay?! You don’t get it, this is easy for you-“

“HEY!” Sniper shouted. Scout immediately recoiled, looking scared. “I get it, you asshole! Why the bloody hell would you think this is easy for me?! It wasn’t easy for me growing up, it wasn’t easy for me telling my parents, and is sure fucking isn’t easy now! Don’t throw the blame at me just because you hate yourself too!”

The fire was gone from Scout’s eyes, and the tears began to fall. He curled in on himself, looking smaller than ever as the relentless wind tore at both of them. Mundy’s chest lurched, anger dissipating immediately. He reached out uselessly, unsure of whether to touch him or not.

“Scout-”

“I’m sorry.” Scout sniffled, rubbing furiously at his eyes. “I-I didn’t- I know-“

He didn’t finish the sentence as he threw himself into Sniper’s arms, breaking into tears anew. Sniper didn’t hesitate to hold him, crying in his arms, and Mundy was crying too, and the wind ceased momentarily.

“I’m so s-sorry Snipes, I know I didn’t- didn’t- I’m so sorry.” Scout cried.

“No, no, it’s okay, ‘roo, I didn’t- I fucked up too, it’s okay, it’s all okay.”

They stood like that for a few moments, holding each other. The wind picked up again, ripping at their clothes.

“...Jeremy.”

“Whot?”

Scout drew away from Sniper’s arms, rubbing his eyes and not looking directly at him.

“M’name’s Jeremy.” He mumbled, averting his gaze.

Jeremy. The cocky, loudmouthed man covered in tears that stood before him was Jeremy. Jeremy was the man shivering from the cold, looking small and defeated. Jeremy, who had unabashedly annoyed Mundy to no end in his first days on the job with his fast actions and his faster mouth. Jeremy, who had eventually irritated his way into Mundy’s heart and found the words to say that Sniper hadn’t been able to.

“M’Mundy.” Sniper said quickly.

“I- What?”

A little too quickly. “My name is Mundy,” he tried again.

Scout looked back up at him. There was silence for a few seconds. Then he cracked a lopsided grin. 

“That’s a fuckin’ stupid name.”

Sniper snorted loudly, and Scout began to giggle. The two stood at the top of the snow-encrusted hill, laughing hysterically over the growing wind.

Scout was the first to break the laughing fit. “Snipes, I think-” he choked out through his giggles. “I think-”

He cut short, looking at Sniper’s neck. Mundy opened his mouth to inquire, but a shooting pain in his jugular stopped his question.

Scout shouted as Sniper furiously wrenched the object from his neck, vision filling with spots. Poison dart? Tranquilizer? Oddly not lethal bullet? Whatever it was, it was acting fast. The edges of his vision blurred as the spots grew larger.

Sniper stumbled backwards, hand clenched uselessly at his neck as his vision rapidly faded. The wind didn’t feel cold anymore, it just felt dark, and he fell to his knees. Scout held his shoulders, yelling at him. His voice was muffled, and far away. Sniper could only make out his name, his real name, before a dart hit Jeremy as well, and everything went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back! Pacing who?? In all honesty I’m pretty proud of this chapter, let me know what u guys think!  
> Comments, constructive criticism, and kudos are my lifeblood!


	6. Back Inside, Still Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No warnings this time!

Sniper woke to a slap in the face. A literal one, at that. It probably would’ve stung if he wasn’t feeling so sluggish and cold. He tried to open his eyes but could only part them slightly, giving him a view of a very blurry person who was currently shouting at him. Rude. Mundy elected to ignore this individual, and grunted his disapproval at them.

 

The rude individual rummaged through his coat for a few seconds, then checked his wrists. Seemingly satisfied by the lack of money on Sniper’s person, a hand grabbed his coat and began dragging him down the hill. He couldn’t fully open his eyes, but through his slightly parted lids he could see the sky above him, still gently snowing. 

 

Oh, that’s right. It was snowing. That’s probably why he was so cold and the footsteps beside him crunched loudly. Well, Sniper pondered, if he could deduce that from his surroundings, he likely wasn’t going to die soon. It took mental fortitude to analyze a situation as thoroughly as he had.

 

The person above him let go of his coat abruptly. Sniper’s head snapped back and hit the ground hard. The unknown person was now pounding on a door, yelling indistinguishable disgruntled things at it. Apparently, the door was okay with it, as it swung open seconds later.

 

The hand yanked on his coat again, practically tossing him inside. Ow. Now Sniper’s eyes were considerably more open as he struggled to stand. 

 

Another, larger hand grabbed his coat and shook him. A high pitched voice was yelling at him, but Mundy couldn’t seem to focus on the face in front of him. The face recognized this, and began commanding other people around. Something about blankets? That was nice, he was rather cold.

 

Various hands ushered him to a fireplace, and one pair pulled the syringe from his neck. The heat and sudden pain jolted him, and he opened his eyes completely.

 

Sniper was sat in front of a fireplace burnt from many years of use. There were an unreasonable number of blankets piled on his shoulders, and Demo sat at his right, blabbering something too drunken and fast for Mundy to comprehend.

 

“...’nd ya wasn’t there, but me arse couldn’t bloody well get ye, but ah love ye man, but ah didnae do nothin’... ‘m sorry, mate, ah could’ve-”

 

“Slow down there, pardner, you’re gonna yab his ear off.” Engie sat down at Sniper’s right, handing him a warm mug. “Here ya go, Doctor’s orders. It’s chamomile tea. Don’t drink it too fast, now.”

 

Sniper mumbled a thanks, cradling the mug in his stiff, frozen hands. On his left, Demo had fallen silent, although he clearly was itching to talk. They sat in uncomfortable silence for a few moments before a loud, angry noise behind them.

 

Sniper turned around to see Medic performing a number of tests on the syringe. Currently, he seemed engrossed in a small strip of paper that was changing hue. He clearly wasn’t happy with the colors he found, slamming it down on the desk and swearing loudly.

 

“What happened?” Sniper croaked.

 

“I should be asking _you_ zat, Sniper,” Medic growled, turning on him quicker than a viper. “How do ve know you are not a spy?”

 

“Because I checked ‘im,” Spy remarked. “You doubt my competence?”

 

“Every day, but zis appears to be more serious zan usual,” Medic snarked. He held up the syringe. “Zis vas not mean to kill anyone, it is merely a fast-acting tranquilizer. Sniper should be vithin regular shape in a few hours. However,” he turned to the group, “zis means whoever took Scout vanted him alive, and ve don’t know vhere he is.”

 

“Respawn is active?” Heavy inquired, handing Medic tea.

 

“Scout will not die,” Spy said sternly.

 

Heavy shrugged. “Is best to prepare for worst case scenario.”

 

“Awful nice of you to think of that, but this facility hasn’t had respawn for decades,” Engie chimed in, “It was all scrapped for war efforts. Even if it was still here, I didn’t hook any of y’all up to it, so that wouldn’t work anyhow.”

 

There was a moment of contemplating silence. No one seemed to have a clue what to do. The quiet was a heavy, unwelcome blanket on the team, weighing them down as the storm raged on outside.

 

Then the door was forcefully kicked open. “Heavy!” Soldier shouted, storming into the base, followed quickly by Zhanna. “You would not believe what your stunning sister did!”

 

They both slammed an assortment of items on the kitchen table. From what Sniper could see, the pile contained several rolled up maps, three lanterns (now cracked), a couple matchboxes, and a large hunk of undefinable meat. The rest of the team looked at Soldier and Zhanna, who both stood proudly by their mess.

 

“What did you do?” Engie asked, voice dangerously mom-like. He got up from Sniper’s side and marched over to the now abashed couple. 

 

“Aye, looks like a bloody treasure cave barfed up its leftovers,” Demo remarked, squinting his eye critically at the pair.

 

“Demo, you shut your beautiful mouth! I’ll have you know my fiancé bravely navigated through the snow until she set her sights on a familiar shop! And like true American, she proceeded to rob that very same shop!” Soldier raved.

 

Zhanna nodded smugly. “Is area I have been before. Shop was owned by puny man many years ago, but he died. We found his skeleton, but did not think to bring it back. We are sorry for that.”

 

“Are these maps?” Engie asked, peering at the paper.

 

“Yes! The man said they were tunnel maps,” Soldier said.

 

“Vasn’t he dead?”

 

“Don’t worry about it.”

 

Medic looked like he was ready to hurl his mug at Soldier’s face, but Engie cut him off.

 

“Looks like these tunnels run right under the base. They were built for fallout times, but I reckon it’d be a fine place for an underground lair.”

 

Sniper spoke up again. “So you think that’s where they’re keeping Scout?”

 

Engie sighed deeply. “It’s the only place for miles around. But they’re mazelike, and I reckon parts have fallen apart over the years. Going down there could mean we slip and never come back up.”

 

“But it also could be where we find Scout,” Spy retorted.

 

The group was silent for a moment.

 

“Are we seriously questioning this? Scout’s down there, we have to go,” Sniper blurted, irritates by the hesitancy.

 

Spy bristled. “You do not get to pretend to care more than I do just because you fucked him,” he snarled.

 

“Oh, right, I’m sure he’d much rather see you do all people,” Sniper snapped.

 

“I have done more for him than you could ever-”

 

Medic slammed his tea cup on the table, instantly shutting up the other supports. “Are ve done?”

 

The silence was back, this time biting.

 

Medic sighed tiredly. “Soldier, get your shovel. Engineer, let me see those maps. Heavy, be a dear and get me some more tea, I spilled mine.”

 

The room bustled back into action, each person claiming a job to work on. Engineer and Medic examined the papers, Soldier, Zhanna, and Demo went to check weapon stocks, Sniper tried to keep Pyro away from the matchboxes, Heavy made tea, and Spy was nowhere to be found.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Medic spilling that tea. An icon.  
> Aaaaanywho, I kinda need help. So I drew smut w Scout and Sniper (I’m talking straight up porn) but I have nowhere to post it. I can’t post it to tumblr bc then ppl will know I drew it, but I can’t post it here either. I tried to, but apparently you can only post pictures on archiveofourown if you get the image url from somewhere the image has already been posted?? Help. 
> 
> Comments, kudos, and constructive criticism are always welcome,


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